


Begin to Howl

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Break the Chains [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: If Geoff thinks Ryan's going to be a stabilizing influence on his favorite group of lunatics, he's a goddamn fool.





	Begin to Howl

If Geoff thinks Ryan's going to be a stabilizing influence on his favorite group of lunatics, he's a goddamn fool.

“Hey, Ryan,” Geoff says, off-hand and super casual. “Shut the fuck up.”

Ryan rolls his eyes and studies the dossiers Geoff's thrown down in front of him. Jones, Free, and the newest Lost Boy to make it to the agency, Dooley.

“Look,” Ryan says, kicking back in his chair to look Geoff right in his beady little eyes. “I'm just telling you the truth.”

He's worked for Geoff going on years now. Handling a lot of the behind the scenes shit Jack doesn't have the time to deal with on top of his own duties, and Geoff just straight out lacks the patience or skills for. 

Things no one likes doing but still needs to be done if they want things running smoothly. Or you know. Smooth- _ish_. 

Ryan hasn't been in the field for a while now, but he keeps up with his certifications because he's not an idiot and they've all made enemies over the years. Have reasons why getting sloppy, becoming complacent with their lot in life is liable to get them killed messily sooner or later.

And now Geoff wants him to become team leader for three of his most unpredictable people who have a tendency to land the more problematic missions. 

Whether it's because Control thinks they're the most qualified agents to tackle said missions or are taking bets as to how long their luck can hold out, even Ryan isn't sure.

Lunatics or not, they're some of the most adaptable bastards Ryan's seen walk through the agency's doors in a long time. Between Michael's solid performance and ability to keep a level head in the worst situations despite the occasional...flareup where his temper is concerned. Gavin's...unique way of looking at the world, and Jeremy's combination of skills and sheer determination they make a solid team.

Unfortunately, their special blend of skills and personalities have forged them into a unit most team leaders aren't prepared to handle. They've gone through several senior agents in the past year, ever since Geoff pulled himself from field duty citing personal issues after a mission went wrong and nearly got them all killed. Moved up into an administrative role in the agency that's killing him by inches.

Geoff loves those idiots, and he's not willing to send them into the kind of missions they're suited for unless he knows they have a team leader he can trust them with. Someone who won't try to stifle them, force them to operate by the book when they're hardly what you'd call model agents. Not the sort to stick to the plan when a better option makes itself available.

“Michael's mellowed with time,” Geoff says, ticking factors off his fingers he thinks will sway Ryan to his side. “Gavin's...well. Gavin's learned a new appreciation for _not_ being a complete dumbass, and Jeremy - “

Ryan steeples his hands as he leans back in his chair. Smiles, big and wide and waits for Geoff to finish that sentence in a way that doesn't make Jeremy sound like the agency's up-and-coming head maniac. 

Geoff sighs, dropping his hand and looking the very picture of a broken man leading a tiny army of the disturbingly unhinged.

“He fucking reminds me of you,” Geoff says, and they both know that's a bad thing. A _very_ bad thing because Ryan had been a great agent, back in the day, if a bit... _creative_ about the way he'd interpret orders. “Makes me wish I still drank.”

Ryan levels a look at Geoff, who makes a face in return. Eyes rolling as he drops into the chair across from Ryan. 

“Fuck you, fine. I don't, but goddamn that kid. Being on a team with Gavin just makes things worse.”

And that - 

Yeah, no. 

Gavin's a bad influence on just about anyone he comes into contact with. Part of the reason he'd been partnered with Michael almost from the get-go. 

Geoff had taken one look at that gawky, scrawny kid fresh off a plane from England and realized he was trouble. Thought pairing him with someone like Michael who showed the kind of basic common sense the agency lacked in spades would be a good idea.

Five years on and they're inseparable. Michael's snapping and snarling and yelling now tinged with overwhelming fondness and affection instead of raw anger. Gavin willingly letting Michael take the lead, all too often a quiet little shadow at his back with sharp eyes and such a clever, clever mind. 

Goddamn instigator, and always Michael there to step in if (when) he gets in over his head, and now there's Jeremy. Good-natured and more than capable of keeping up with both of them, and Ryan knows for a fact he's the brains behind half the messes those idiots get themselves into lately.

And now Geoff wants him to take charge of these little bastards, lead them into hostile situations and get them back home again in one piece or as close to it as he can manage. Thinks Ryan could – not bring them to heel, God no - but at least fake it well enough the bureaucrats would be appeased. 

Lord knows the agency isn't exactly known for their restraint, but they're valuable to the right people and so far those people have managed to stay in power. Protecting them from people who have no idea what it's like all the way down here where things get messy, ugly.

“Fuck you, no,” Ryan says with feeling. “I've done my time out there, same as you, Geoff. Like hell you're getting me out there with those idiots under my command.”

Ryan says the words with confidence, so, so certain, but Geoff.

Geoff gives him this tired little smile. The same one he'd given Ryan all those months ago when Ryan asked him if he was sure retiring from fieldwork was what he really wanted.

And Ryan - 

“Give it a month,” Geoff says, and it's like some bizarre role-reversal going on here that sparks a bit of genuine anger deep down in Ryan because they're _Geoff's_ team, not his. Not Ryan's in any way that matters, and Geoff knows it. “See what happens.”

========

The hell of it is, Ryan knows them, Geoff's idiots.

He was there when each of them came to the agency. Was still taking part in missions with his own team, going out there and doing a little bit of good in between all the wrong.

Coming back to HQ to debrief. Seeing the agency shrinks and bleeding out all the ugly things he'd seen and done on the floor of their pristine offices and feeling like he never got it all out. That there was always something that clung on, sinking its hooks into him and refusing to let go until he asked (all but begged) to be pulled from field duty. 

Found himself a desk down in one of the sub-basements and set up shop, built himself a little kingdom down there that had feelers in every department of the agency. Fed him intel on every little thing that happened within its walls and gave it all over to Geoff and Jack because they were the only ones he's ever trusted with any of it.

Ryan was there when Jack and Geoff brought Michael in. This quiet, watchful kid putting up with no-one's bullshit, and it had made him a few enemies in the early days. Morons who didn't last long at the agency through their own idiocy and small-mindedness. 

He took note of Gavin when he came in on Burnie's heels, wide-eyed and full of questions. Always poking and prodding and _everywhere_ all the goddamn time. Making friends and enemies all in the same breath, and seemingly unaware of the effect he had on people. 

Ryan never heard the full story concerning Jeremy. Just remembers seeing him almost literally stumble through the agency's doors pulled along by Gavin with Geoff strolling just ahead of them, this look on Geoff's face like he knew something no one else did about this quiet, surprisingly well-mannered kid.

And, oh, hadn't he shaken things up, Jeremy.

Looked like a quiet one, eyes sharp and inquisitive. Friendly enough smile on his face, and always ready with a joke or some terrible pun. Self-deprecating and something endearing in that humble-aw-shucks way he has to him, but it was as much of an act as Gavin's stupidity.

Hid the way that mind of his worked, slick and tricky as Gavin's – worse, sometimes – and the kind of skills and abilities to back all of that up. Solidness to him that Gavin lacked, feet planted firmly on the ground and eyes looking skyward, little smirk pulling at his lips.

Ryan knows them, has seen the shit they get up to when they're around HQ too long without a mission to burn that restless energy out of them. (May have, although there's no surviving proof, lent a hand a time or two over the years.)

He feels their focus snap to him the moment he walks into the briefing room set aside for their use. 

Sees the way Michael's eyes narrow ever so slightly. The way Gavin looks up from his phone, head cocked, faint smile playing on his lips. Jeremy lifting his head, feet kicked up in front of him on the briefing room able, Aviators hiding his eyes from sight.

Like walking up to a pack of half-feral dogs, wary and suspicious and ready to tear into him the moment he makes a wrong move.

Geoff Ramsey's boys, his _Lads_. 

Three of the most terrifying agents to work for the agency since its inception a decade and a half ago. Since fucking Geoff Ramsey and his original team, back in the day.

“What the hell did you do to Senior Agent Marshall?” Ryan asks, because he's met nothing but dead-ends every time he goes searching for answers. 

And that's not something that should happen, given what happened to the bastard. (Every little bit deserved because Marshall had been the worst kind of agent, but that's not the kind of sentiment Ryan should have according to the agency's handbook.)

Marshall had been lazy and arrogant, giving the kinds of orders that would have gotten lesser agents killed and just smart enough to hide his incompetence from his superiors. The people who should have caught it before it went as far as it did.

Before it landed Michael and Jeremy in the infirmary with broken bones and holes in them the size and shape of bullets. Gavin the only one of them still standing (on a technicality) with Control scrambling to figure out what had gone wrong. Geoff and Jack both in DC for budgetary meetings, and Marshall trying to pin the blame on the Lads. Citing their past track records, tendency to go off-book, throw a little flair in there, their collective penchant for fiery explosions.

In retrospect, Marshall's luckier than he knows to have gotten off so lightly, considering.

Gavin's got a mean streak in him that doesn't surface all that often, but when someone threatens what's important to him? You'd better pray to whatever higher being you hold dear someone can rein him in. (Unfortunate for Marshall, then, that his incompetence had removed his two best bets of getting out of the situation unscathed. So very, very unfortunate.)

Michael settles back in his chair, slow smirk pulling at his mouth. Gavin's eyes brightening as he sets his phone down and sits up, and Jeremy barks out a laugh as he pulls the Aviators off, smirk on his face to mirror Michael's.

“I don't know what you're on about,” Michael says in that atrocious parody of a British accent he tends to adopt from time to time, taking the lead on this the way he always does. 

Ryan locks eyes with him, and Michael just looks back. This sort of vicious satisfaction in his eyes, and Ryan finds he can't fault him for it. Not when Marshall had put his entire team at risk, and if it's one thing the Lads are, it's loyal.

To their team first, the agency second, everyone else never.

Ryan sighs, feels that strange tug of affection for these idiots he's always felt somewhere in the vicinity where his heart should be. (Rumors says he lost it years ago on a mission gone bad. Defective body armor, and the lucky shot that heralded the rise of the Mad King with his little kingdom down on sub-basement D because the agency's rumor mill is ever so creative.)

“Sure, okay,” Ryan says, and tosses down mission folders on the table by Jeremy's feet. Flips a little USB drive over to Gavin who plucks it neatly out of the air. “We've got a mission.”

Ryan pauses, looking at each of them in turn. Highly trained and skilled agents who have years of field experience under their belts.

“It would be nice,” he says, “if I knew you trusted me, but I'll settle for knowing you'll listen to me out there.”

He _likes_ these idiots, doesn't want to be the one leading them to their deaths. 

Michael cracks his neck, eyes sliding towards Gavin who looks down at the USB drive in his hands. Turning it over and over as he thinks. Jeremy drops his feet to the floor and sits up, shoulders squared, and Ryan?

He waits.

Waits, because Michael's the one to take the lead when someone comes in to challenge the order of things here. The way things work with this team since Geoff retired from fieldwork. To put himself out there, loud and brash and stubborn down to his core.

Gavin, though.

He handles things like this, brokers little deals. Arrangements and understandings. 

This odd mix of harmlessness and a charming sort of enthusiasm to him that pulls people's eyes away from Michael and Jeremy to focus on him. Have them making the mistake of thinking the Lads are anything but dangerous.

After a moment Gavin looks up at Ryan and smiles, small and crooked and real.

“I think if anyone's earned that much here aside from Geoff and Jack, Ryan, it's you,” he says.

Ryan looks at him. At Michael and Jeremy and it's - 

Well, it's not quite like being kicked in the ribs because Ryan knows that feeling a little too well, but it's close enough. Realizes, seeing the way these idiots are willing to put what little trust they have to give over these days to him, Geoff knew exactly what he was doing when he went to Ryan.

========

Unsurprisingly, their first mission in the field as a team doesn't go exactly as planned.

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Ryan says, staring in awe at the flaming wreckage that used to be a nice little mountain villa belonging to the head of a drug cartel. 

_”Mission accomplished,”_ Michael says flatly, Jeremy's delighted laughter in the background. _”We could use a pick-up.”_

Ryan slides a look towards Gavin sitting in the pilot's seat of their borrowed helicopter and isn't all that surprised by the manic grin on his face.

“You heard him,” Ryan says, wondering how the hell he's supposed to explain this to Control. 

This was supposed to be a nice little shakedown mission for them, figure out how to work as a team. Get to know one another's quirks and idiosyncrasies, and -

Technically – _technically_ – it's working because Ryan is now well acquainted with the fact that sending Michael and Jeremy off on their own is a bad idea. Probably shouldn't have done it, but God knows what would have happened if he'd sent Gavin with Michael or Jeremy.

Gavin coos as something explodes on the east side of the villa belonging to the cartel leader. Michael and Jeremy were supposed to take out _quietly_ while Ryan and Gavin dealt with the cargo planes at the little airstrip hidden up in the mountains.

It's pretty as all hell, so Ryan will give him that, but it's also just a wee bit noticeable. 

There's already chatter on cartel's radio frequency they're tapped into, and it's going to be a challenge getting out of here in one piece. 

And Ryan. 

He tried, to get Geoff to see reason when he handed the Lads over to him expecting Ryan to be a stabilizing influence on them, he really did, because – well.

There's a significant part of Ryan that's duly impressed with Michael and Jeremy for wreaking more havoc than he and Gavin did, and they're in a gunship kitted out with a gatling gun firing explosive rounds.

Incredible, really.

========

“Congratulations,” Geoff says, kicking back in the chair across from Ryan. Smug as hell and radiating this exhausting sort of _glee_. “I heard the mission was a success.”

Ryan scowls at Geoff and wishes for a brief, fleeting moment he actually drank.

“Sometimes I really don’t like you.” 

Geoff cackles that goddamn hyena laugh of his as he sets down a six-pack of Diet Coke on Ryan's desk. 

“Shut the fuck up, you love me,” he says, making _gimme_ gestures for Ryan's laptop and the report he's been working on for half the night. “Now let me show you how to bullshit Control when it comes to what those little bastards do in the field.”

Ryan looks at Geoff, thinks _I'm never going to make it a month with these lunatics_ , and hands his laptop over because Geoff knows him too damn well. Knows Ryan's been waiting on a team like this.

“Fucking seriously, Geoff,” Ryan says, reaching for a can of Diet Coke, something settling in him at Geoff's crooked grin. “Sometimes I really don't like you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a Battle Buddies AU and mutated on me. /o\


End file.
